


Solving Trauma

by LadySage



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aoi is a good girl, F/M, First Kiss, Future Foundation (Dangan Ronpa), Hurt/Comfort, Mid-Canon, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-04-29 13:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14473308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySage/pseuds/LadySage
Summary: For Kyoko Kirigiri, being the Ultimate Detective means keeping her emotions in check and always being aware of her surroundings. But when she and her classmates escape the killing game and are taken in by the Future Foundation, both these things prove harder than they ever were before. How can she protect everyone when she feels like she's breaking into pieces?





	1. Chapter 1

Kyoko Kirigiri gripped Makoto’s hand in hers as the door rumbled open, freeing them from the prison that was once Hope’s Peak. She held tight, hoping that would keep her from shaking. Her six comrades looked to her as a beacon of strength and coolheadedness, keeping it together as the world fell apart around them. Especially Makoto.

As their eyes adjusted to the light and they saw what the outside world had become, the struggle to keep her composure increased exponentially. It was impossible to all take in at once. It was almost a relief as her brain shifted into detective mode, observing things piece by piece. A thump - that was Toko fainting. A scream - that was Hiro. In the corner of her eye, she could see Hina fall to her knees, hear her softly gasp, “No…” Togami looked away, but the way his jaw tense and the slight grinding sound told her he was gritting his teeth. Makoto looked sidelong at her, and now she could feel his hand tremble and go clammy even through the fabric of her gloves. Inside, she could feel a part of her wailing in horror at the blood-red sky and ruined city, but her training made it possible to keep her composure. She managed to look him in the eye and nod, and together they took their first steps outside.

That composure fell to pieces with her first breath. The polluted air invaded her lungs, and she fell to her knees, coughing and hacking. The Ultimate Detective dissipated, leaving only a frightened teenage girl.

“They’re out!” someone yelled, and figures emerged from outside the school gates, rushing toward them. Panic surged as they wrapped her in a blanket, pulling her hand from his, and she began to fight. He needed her, he needed her, he needed her…

A needle in her arm, and consciousness began to slip away.

She needed him.

 

She woke up in an unfamiliar place.

She smiled softly to herself - the unfamiliarity soothed her, and she knew that made her a bit strange. Her eyes slid around the room, assessing it and finding whatever details she could to deduce what had happened since she lost consciousness.

There were no windows, with no sunlight to signal what time it was. She laid in a double bed with clean white sheets and a bedside table on the left side with a small lamp, which she ran her finger along. No dust. A dresser stood against the opposite wall, which was bare. No monitor. No screen. She hadn’t somehow been sent back to Hope’s Peak. That was a relief. She had to accept that she didn’t know enough about the outside world anymore to be able to surmise where exactly she was.

She looked down at herself - she was still wearing her own clothes, only slightly rumpled. She ran her fingers through her hair - tangled and a little frizzy where her head had been resting against the pillow, but with the braid still intact, sans ribbon. She hadn’t been out long, maybe an hour or so.

Now, who was this old man sitting in the middle of the room?

He smiled when he noticed her gaze had finally turned to him. “Welcome, Kyoko-chan.”

She did not return his smile. “Kyoko-chan?”

“I was a friend of your father’s, and I knew you when you were very small. Would you prefer I call you ‘Kyoko-san’?”

“Kirigiri, please. Who are you?”

His smile took on a wry note at her insistence on formality. “I suppose you don’t remember me - it  _ has _ been a long time. I’m Kazuo Tengan, chairman of the Future Foundation, which is where you currently are. We’re an organization dedicated to returning hope to the world in the wake of despair. We are  _ very _ grateful to all of you for taking care of Junko Enoshima for us.”

“Taking care of.” His choice of words made Kyoko feel a little sick to her stomach, after witnessing the violence that Junko had so gleefully forced on herself when they cornered her. She didn’t respond at first, but then the word “hope” rang through her head, reminding her. She had been separated from Makoto in her sleep in this strange place, unable to protect him. It seemed safe for now, but who knew what was beyond the door?

“Where’s…”

Tengan held up a hand. “Your friends are all fine. You became so distraught that we had no choice to give you a light sedative, but everyone else came along willingly. They’ve been waiting for you to wake up so we can give you all an orientation.”

She broke eye contact and stared down at her gloves, humiliated at how she had fought her rescuers. It had made sense not to trust them at the time, but if she had kept a cool head she could have deduced that they were there to help. Her emotions had gotten the better of her.

“No need to be embarrassed,” he said. “You’ve all survived more than any person should have to go through. Are you ready?”

She stood and silently finger-combed the tangles out of her hair and smoothed the wrinkles from her clothes. “I’m ready.”

 

Tengan guided them through the center - it appeared to be something like a dorm for Future Foundation members. There were no windows, and they wouldn’t have access to the outside world for a while, he said, until they could be slowly reacclimated to how the world had changed since their memories had been removed. Each had their own apartment with a bedroom, living room, kitchenette, and shower, though the baths were shared. They had a small commissary with basic living necessities and some food, a cafeteria, a lounge, and a library. He promised they would have access to more of the building as time went on and the board members of the Foundation felt they were ready.

As they walked through the building, Kyoko’s instincts told her something was desperately off. The setup - the areas they had access to, the lack of windows, the vague promise of more later - was far too similar to the killing game. Her brain scrabbled about, looking for a subtle hint to confirm her suspicions, but she found nothing. The rooms were clean and well-kept with no sign of suspicious activity, and the Future Foundation members they passed in the hall offered hurried but polite greetings. She made a mental note to inspect the building in greater detail when she had a chance to do so discreetly. She didn’t want to appear suspicious or, if her instincts were right, tip off any enemies.

At the end, Tengan showed them into a room furnished with comfortable furniture and desks with slightly-outdated computers. “This room will be off-limits to everyone except for you survivors. You’ve all been through a lot and we decided it would be best to give you space and privacy while you reacclimate. Does anyone have any questions?”

The six glanced at each other, unsure. After a few seconds, Aoi raised her hand barely above shoulder level, looking sheepish. Tengan looked at her and smiled. “Is there… is there any plans for like, counseling or something? Like you said, we’ve all really been through a lot…”

He scratched his chin. “I confess I haven’t made any special plans for that, but you do have a good point. I’ll see if I can find anyone up to the challenge. Anything else?”

Makoto frowned “Wait a second… I’ve been wondering, how old are we? I know we had a year’s worth of memories erased from our school days, but how long were we in lockdown?”

“You spent two years at Hope’s Peak Academy, so most of you are eighteen years old.” When devastation flashed across Makoto’s face, Tengan added, “We’re working on a way to help you recover those memories. It won’t just be time that you lost. Are there any other questions?”

Kyoko suspected that it wasn’t the two years that Makoto was upset about, but the fact that he probably would never grow taller than 5’3”. She smiled slightly to herself.

Nobody responded this time. He nodded, satisfied, and bid them goodbye.

“I’m going to my room. Don’t follow me,” Togami muttered, and left. Fukawa, who had started to go after him, froze and scowled.

“I... think I’m going to go too. Gotta go consult the spirits, y-yeah.” Hagakure turned and fled as well.

“Is something wrong, Kyoko? You’ve been looking lost in thought the entire time here,” Makoto said.

“There’s something suspicious about this place. I’m not sure what it is, it just feels… wrong.”

Aoi cocked her head, considering what Kyoko had just said. “Are you sure? You fainted before you could talk to them, Kyoko, but the people who brought us in here were really nice! This is actually the safest I’ve felt in weeks.”

Kyoko’s frown deepened - she didn’t like being doubted, especially when she had no material proof and only her intuition to go on. “And where are those rescuers now? This is supposed to be their living quarters, and we’ve barely seen anyone.” Why didn’t her friends trust her, after everything? Had her detective’s instincts not saved them over and over again? She pushed back the frustration, keeping her voice level. “It’s not really something I can explain just yet. I’ll have to inspect the area more and see what I can find…”

Makoto placed a hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Kyoko, we believe you. You’re the Ultimate Detective, after all. But I think it’ll be okay to relax at least for a little while. If you’re feeling scared or nervous, you can come talk to us…”

“No!” Kyoko jerked back, suddenly uncomfortable with the physical contact. “I’m fine. I just need some time to think.” She could feel three pairs of eyes boring into her. She had to escape, to get away from their gaze, before her calm exterior could crack - they relied on her to stay level-headed even in a crisis. What would they think if they could see the panic that threatened to overtake her? “I’m going to the library.”

 

She laid on the library couch, reading a book titled,  _ A History of Hope’s Peak _ . Though, if she was honest with herself, there was very little actual reading happening; her eyes mostly just slid over the words without her brain processing their meaning. She was calmer, but couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that prickled at her constantly. The door creaked open, but she didn’t move.

“Y-you’re c-c-cold,” a familiar stammer came from the doorway.

“Do you need something, Fukawa?” she asked without looking up.

“I-I saw you w-when we came out. You d-d-didn’t even react, l-like it didn’t m-m-matter to you. And p-p-poor Naegi, trying to comfort y-you, and you j-just jerked away.”

“Go away, Fukawa.”

“I-i-if Master tried to comfort me, I’d b-be on my knees, th-thanking him! Or,” she added with a sly smile, “d-doing something else. B-but y-you’re so cold, you p-probably wouldn’t…”

Anger, a much more familiar emotion, surged within Kyoko. Normally she could keep it inside without it showing, but this time her face grew hot as she sat up. “I said get out!” she shouted. One look at the cruel smirk on Fukawa’s face, and she lost control. She hurled the book across the room.

In a flash, Fukawa was behind her, pressing scissor blades against Kyoko’s throat. No, not Fukawa - Genocide Jack. Kyoko froze.

“Oh my my,” Jack giggled into her ear. “What do we have here?”

“Your other personality provoked me, and I lashed out at her,” Kyoko said, her anger replaced with a strange calm. She doubted Jack would do anything to her after all this time. Considering she wasn’t a handsome boy, Kyoko had little in common with her usual victims - even during the killing game, she’d never threatened her directly. Serial killers were consistent and methodical. Those who fell outside their preferred victims usually had little to fear. Regardless, she stayed as still as she could; even an accidental nick from those things could be deadly.

“You flashed her? I don’t think you’re her type!”

“You know exactly what I said.”

“Caught me.” Jack stepped back, releasing Kyoko. Kyoko turned, and the two stared at each other for a moment, Kyoko fighting off faint disgust from Jack’s unnaturally long tongue lolling from her mouth.

“Are we done here?” Kyoko asked.

Genocide Jack stepped back and pointed her scissors at Kyoko. “Listen, girly. I don’t know what you did, but the other me let me out suuuuuuper easy this time. She practically called out to me! I have no interest in killing you, but don’t think you can do whatever you want now that Monokuma’s gone.”

“I already know that,” Kyoko said, straightening her jacket. “The question is, does anyone else?”

 

Kyoko spent the rest of the day wandering the dorm, inspecting the walls for cracks that may hint at a concealed door, rapping at suspicious points to check for secret passages. She saw next to no one in the halls and did her best to avoid any potential passers-by, friends and strangers alike. At one point Hagakure tried to greet her, but she just stared at him until he got intimidated and left. She considered tailing Makoto in secret to make sure he didn’t inadvertently put himself in danger, but decided against it. If their rescuers had ill intent, they would almost certainly wait for a while longer, to make sure all of them developed a false sense of security.

She would not fall prey to that mentality. She would stay alert and keep everyone safe. It would be worth them treating her like a lunatic right now. 

The anger bubbled up within her once again at her friends’ complacency with being trapped again, but she kept it from boiling over by making a list of suspicious points to come back and check again later: scuff marks that could be a sign of something being moved, furniture that could be concealing trap doors, potential hidden camera points.

Her stomach gurgled faintly, and she realized she hadn’t stopped to eat in what had to be several hours. The cafeteria would have too many people; she imagined her classmates happily eating together and celebrating their “safety” as their deaths creeped ever-closer. So, instead she bought some cup noodles from a bored-looking girl in the commissary and ate them alone in her room as she mentally reenacted her conversation with Tengan in search of any suspicious phrases or gestures.

Once her cup noodles were finished and her hunger was sated, she set off to do one more pass through the halls. She hoped to continue her search undetected, but then…

“Kyoko! Hey!”

Makoto came jogging up behind her. She felt half a dozen conflicting emotions at once: affection, annoyance at being caught, anxiety for his safety, anger (Where was the anger coming from now? It didn’t matter. She was always at least a little angry. She was used to it.), and most surprisingly, relief. She realized that not seeing him all day had only added to her stress, and felt a little silly for avoiding him. She smiled and simply greeted him with, “Makoto.”

“I haven’t seen you all day! Where have you been?” He touched her arm cautiously, as if afraid after their earlier conversation, and looked up into her eyes, searching for any sign of something wrong.

“Oh, around.”

He ignored her cryptic answer and continued, “I was thinking about what you said earlier about not seeing anyone in the halls, and I did think it seemed strange. So I stopped in the commissary and I talked to the girl working the counter. She told me that these are the living quarters for Future Foundation members who are usually away on missions, so it’s normal for things to be pretty empty around here. She also said that everyone is really glad that we’re okay, but aren’t sure how to act around us.”

“You’re amazing. You really can talk to anyone.”

She literally couldn’t remember the last time she had seen more than a brief glimpse of the sun, but Makoto’s smile evoked memories of its warmth. “What? No, Kyoko. You’re amazing. You work so hard to make sure everything is safe for us. You’ve saved my life and everyone else’s over and over. I want you to know we’re all grateful, even if everyone doesn’t always show it.”

“Oh, Makoto.” There was a pressure behind her eyes threatening to turn into tears. She blinked them back - she hadn’t cried in front of others in years and didn’t want to start now. “Wait, I have an idea. Can you help me with something?”

“W-with what?”

“At the end of each day, you report back to me with what people told you. Every detail.”

“I don’t know, Kyoko, that sounds a lot like spying…”

“It’s not spying, it’s gathering intel. People feel comfortable with you. They might let something slip.”

His smile had long since faded, replaced by a furrowed brow of confusion. “I don’t like this. How can I let people trust me if I don’t trust them? Trust is the only reason any of us survived.”

“I thought you trusted  _ me _ !” The anger that had been simmering within her boiled over, spilling out into her voice and through her mouth, forcing her to shout after she’d held it together for weeks. Makoto shrunk back, surprised by the unexpected display of strong emotion. “These people are suspicious, Makoto! Tengan told me he knew me as a child, but I don’t remember him at all. That he was a friend of my father. And now, everyone who lives here just happens to be gone and we’re not allowed to leave. They won’t tell us anything about what’s going on with the world, where our families are. They just dropped us in here and expect us to sit around? That’s not right!”

She waited for him to reply, to agree or disagree or something. But he only looked away, eyes focused on some distant point visible only to him and lips pressed together. He was thinking, she knew, but she didn’t like this long pause. “Answer me,” she said, half commanding, half begging. Without his support, she didn’t know what she would do.

“I just… don’t think the Future Foundation is a danger to us.”

It was too much. She hadn’t cried in front of anyone in years, but that single sentence broke the dam and tears began to leak down her eyes. She spun to keep Makoto from seeing her and strode back down the hall toward her room, hoping she wouldn’t run into anyone else on the way.

“Kyoko, wait!” he called again. The note of pleading in his voice told her he knew he’d gone too far, but she couldn’t let him see her like this. She was too hurt, too angry, too betrayed. She’d known this would happen. That’s why she avoided him before.

She’d still protect him at all costs, even if the cost was their relationship.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thirsty for comments


	2. Panic Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mental soundtrack while writing this: Some Nights by fun.

Kyoko glanced up at the clock in the lounge just in time to see the minute hand jump forward to meet the hour hand, signaling midnight. A wave of fear and nausea swept over her - she had dozed off at the computer while trying to hack her way into the outside world’s internet to see if she could find out at least some of what was going on. She had been sleeping outside her room, after nightfall… what would happen to her?

She took a deep breath, forcing down the panic. She was at the Future Foundation, not Hope’s Peak. Although not safe, this place had different rules. Sleeping outside her room was not verboten. She was okay for now. She headed back to her room, looking forward to some rest after a long and exhausting day.

She felt relatively normal (normal? What is that? Normal for her has never existed, not since she her father left) as she showered, changed into her pajamas, settled into bed. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping for dreamless sleep without nightmares. She still had nightmares about fire…

Instead of sleep, the icy-cold panic she’d pushed back in the lounge crashed over her, this time overwhelming any other thought or emotion. She didn’t want to rest, couldn’t rest, couldn’t even remember that rest existed. Usually she could find some mystery to grasp, a problem that needed solving, something to hold onto to keep her grip. But now there was nothing, and her mind slid about, bouncing from wall to wall like a trapped animal.

Trapped. That’s what she was. That’s who she was. Not a detective. Not a survivor. Not a person.

Just… trapped.

A low, shuddering groan escaped her, crawling out of her mouth like something with a will and a mind of its own. Her heart hammered in her chest, threatening to break through her rib cage and leave her body entirely. 

She had to leave, had to get out of there, or she would surely fall apart at the seams.

She resisted the urge to flee, to run down the hall as fast as possible, to try to tear down the locked doors with her own hands. She forced herself to take slow, shuffling steps out the door and into the hallway.

But now that she was out there, where would she go? She cast her eyes toward Makoto’s door - he was the obvious choice. Her sweet, kind, supportive boyfriend would naturally want to calm her down, to hold her until she stopped shaking, to whisper that everything was going to be okay…

No. She didn’t want him to see her like this. He would do all those things, but it would leave him shaken as well. He relied on her to stay strong, and she had already come too close to breaking down in front of him.

Instead, she went for the only other viable option: Aoi Asahina, the closest person she had to a best friend. She knocked and fell into a crouch, balled up to keep herself from shaking apart.

Aoi answered the door sleepy-eyed and yawning, her hair loose from its signature high ponytail. She looked at the empty air in front of her, confused, before glancing down and gasping.

“Kyoko! What happened?”

“I can’t… I just…” She couldn’t explain what happened, that would involve applying logic and reason to a situation where there was none. She knew she was crying, that this would break her streak of not being seen, but she no longer cared. She looked up and into Aoi’s face. “Help me.”

Aoi pulled her in, guiding her to the couch in her front room. “Uh, what can I do?” she asked. “Do you want water?” Kyoko shook her head. “Uh… Do you want something to eat? Is your blood sugar low?” Her blue eyes had gone so wide Kyoko could see the whites all the way around.

“Just… stay here.”

“O…okay.” Aoi sat down next to her and placed a gentle hand on her back. “I’m here. It’s okay, Kyoko. I’ll stay here with you.”

The panic loosened its grip on Kyoko, but by no means was it ready to let her go. As Aoi whispered to her, she cast her mind about, looking for something for the Ultimate Detective to solve. Nothing! Where there were mysteries, there were no clues, no way to solve anything. No logic to distract from the raging emotions she had spent years learning to ignore. She was useless, everything was useless, they were all going to die here, Makoto was going to die here, it would be all her fault.

“Just breathe,” Aoi said.

Breathing! How do you breathe again? She felt like she had forgotten. Her mind honed in on this question, this bit of missing information. The breaths came short and sharp, but that was wrong, wasn’t it? Breath goes in and out, slowly, so your body can use the oxygen. She focused everything she had remaining on remembering how to breathe. In and out, in and out.

As her breath returning to normal, her heart slowed, and her brain began to function again. As the panic faded, embarrassment took over. “I’m fine now,” she said. “I’m sorry about that.” Even though her voice was calm now, she couldn’t stop crying.

“Why are you sorry?” Aoi’s eyes shone with tears as well, and Kyoko felt a pang of guilt for not just intruding in the middle of the night, but upsetting her friend as well. “Don’t feel bad for needing help, Kyoko. You’re only human.” She got up and retrieved a steaming cup from the counter. “To be honest, I was having trouble sleeping myself. I was just making some tea when you knocked on my door. Here, have this.”

Kyoko took a sip and had to stop herself from grimacing - Aoi had loaded it up with sugar, making it far too sweet for her taste. It was still kind of her to offer, though, so Kyoko sipped at it with as straight a face as she could manage. She thought of going back to her room, now that she was calm again, but even the thought of it made her tense. She considered her options when Aoi broke in, interrupting her train of thought.

“Do you want to spend the night here? If it would make you feel better or, I don’t know, safer, I don’t mind! This room is way bigger than I’m used to, anyway.”

“You don’t?”

“Not at all!” Aoi smiled brightly at her, even as she wiped away tears. “You can stay with me as long as you need to. It’ll be fun.”

 

Instead of Monokuma’s voice, Kyoko awoke the next morning to the sound of grunting. Puzzled, she wandered out into the front room where Aoi was doing pushups in a sports bra and shorts, clapping between each one. Kyoko watched, transfixed by the athleticism and the difference in the skin tone of Aoi’s pale middle and her tanned limbs and face.

“Seventy-three… *clap* seventy-four… *clap* Seventy-five! Oh, morning Kyoko! Did I wake you up?” Aoi bounced up, far too cheery for someone who had just done seventy-five pushups, in Kyoko’s opinion. She hated exercising and even getting sweaty, preferring to do the bare minimum to stay healthy. She shook her head, not trusting her ability to speak coherently so soon after getting up.

“Oh good! Listen, I didn’t think last night was the right time to mention this, but yesterday everyone talked and we decided to keep meeting up every morning. Not that there’ll be much new to discuss, but I think it’ll be good to spend the time together. Well, who knows if Byakuya or Toko will be there, but...I’ll be there, and probably Makoto and Hiro too!”

Kyoko paused, considering her options. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to be around other people yet…but she also didn’t want to be alone. It could be a good time to check in on the points of suspicion she found earlier undisturbed, but if she ran into someone, it would be sure to attract attention. Although Aoi would surely try to deflect, she was also concerned people would talk.

More than anything else, her heart ached for Makoto, but she was still afraid to see him after last night. They’d never really fought before, not even when she appeared to be sending him to his death. He always trusted her implicitly, but now cracks had started to form in their relationship. His pained expression when he contradicted her drifted into her mind’s eye, and she didn’t know if she could bear to see that again so soon.

Her emotions told her no, to stay, to shelter in place, but logic told her that avoiding him completely wouldn’t help things. Logic, as usual, won out.

“I’ll go.”

Aoi jumped up and down and clapped her hands a little. “Yay! Okay, why don’t you go get ready while I hop in the shower?”

 

True to Aoi’s word, everyone was waiting in the cafeteria: Togami scowling over a cup of coffee and toast, Fukawa staring intently at him from across the room, Hiro wolfing down a bowl of rice sitting across a four-top from Makoto, who picked at a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. Breakfast passed without any major incident - nobody was really in the mood to talk, and Kyoko noticed most of them had dark circles under their eyes. Even Aoi’s bright affect wore off as she nibbled at her donut. Kyoko suspected she was not the only one who had slept poorly.

Once breakfast finished, Makoto turned to her. “Would you like to take a walk with me, Kyoko?” he asked, a little too casually. Kyoko could see the nervousness in his eyes and, though she didn’t show it, she felt that nervousness too. The uncertainty of how the sudden changes in their life would affect their relationship.

What if, now that things were more stable, he wouldn’t want someone stoic like her anymore? Or someone taller than him? What if he wanted someone cute and small, like Aoi? As they walked down the hall, she covered up her anxiety with a practiced blank expression.

“Were you okay last night? You seemed pretty upset after we talked.”

“I was fine,” Kyoko lied. “I’m starting to think you were right. We probably don’t have anything to worry about.” Even as she spoke, her eyes traced the joint between the ceiling and the walls, checking for minuscule gaps.

He paused, as if he wasn’t sure he believed her, but didn’t say anything if he suspected her of being untruthful. “I was thinking about our conversation, and I realized what happened was probably inevitable.”

Ah. So it was the breakup conversation. She steeled herself, face as still as a Noh mask, and mentally mapped out the quickest route to somewhere she could fall apart in private.

“When we were in Hope’s Peak, things were pretty bad, but at least we could always expect Monokuma - Junko - to follow the rules she set out for us. And now that we’re here, they’re not telling us any rules, but they’re promising us that we’re safe. Since you’re a detective, it’s hard for you to trust anything where you don’t know the rules, right?”

“Right.”

“So of course you don’t trust this situation. But you trust me, right?”

“Right.” She wasn’t sure where he was going with this. She expected him to let her down as gently as he could, but this conversational thread seemed to be leading elsewhere. Maybe he was going to tell her that was wrong, to laugh in her face for expecting him to stay with her once the mystery was solved and she was no longer useful.

“My instincts are really strongly telling me that this place is safe for us. Maybe I’m just tired from constantly feeling like I’m in danger, but I don’t think that’s it. So I guess what I’m saying is, I’m hoping that you’ll trust me when I say we’re okay now.” He took her hands in his and smiled up at her. “Do you think you can at least try?”

In that moment, she remembered why she had seen him as the Ultimate Hope, that ineffable quality that elevated simple optimism into something stronger, something capable of changing things around him for the better. He made her feel like, just maybe, things might be okay. And even if they weren’t, he’d make them so.

She still didn’t trust the Future Foundation, or Chairman Tengan. She didn’t believe for a moment they had their best interests at heart. But she wanted to support Makoto’s hope.

She couldn’t sense the temperature of his hands - the burn scars had long since dulled her sensitivity to hot and cold, and the gloves added an extra barrier - but she wanted to feel his warmth. She leaned forward and touched her forehead against his, looking into his eyes and finding the hope she needed. “I’ll try.”

Kyoko never thought of herself as impulsive. She always considered every potential consequence of every choice before she acted and kept her head clear. But right now, with adrenaline and endorphins still intermingling and coursing through her and the sound and sensation of his breath against her skin, and those warm hazel eyes so close to hers, her head swam. The last twenty-four hours had been hard and confusing, but now a different kind of confusion overcame her, one that was more fizzing and physical than mental. When a small, cautious smile played across Makoto’s face, she felt an urge she couldn’t resist and brushed her lips against his.

She stepped backward and looked away, embarrassed by the semi-public show of affection even though nobody witnessed it. Her heart thrummed in her chest as she looked back at him, wondering if her face was as red as hers. It was indeed. His mouth trembled, and she could tell he was fighting back a grin.

It was their first kiss, after all.

“Anyway. I’ll see you later,” she muttered. “I have to… think.” For the second day in a row, she walked away from her boyfriend, embarrassed by the emotion she couldn’t hold back. But this time, she was smiling ear to ear.

 

The next few weeks passed in relative peace. True to expectations, the six survivors were left more or less to their own devices in the halls of the Future Foundation dormitory. Without any murders to solve or truths to uncover and their access to the outside world restricted, they had to find ways to fill the time. (Kyoko told herself the same, that there were no mysteries, but that was a lie and she knew it. Falsehoods and coverups were woven into the fabric of this life, and sooner or later, she would find the string to unravel it all.)

They ate breakfast together, sometimes lunch and dinner as well. Kyoko and Makoto took to watching movies together in the lounge. The library had an extensive collection not just of novels and nonfiction, but populist writing as well - Aoi practically cried with joy when she found out they had several volumes of her favorite sports manga that she didn’t remember reading. Fukawa started work on a new novel, though if anyone asked about it she would snarl and cringe and insist they would only make fun of her. Hiro insisted he could contact the spirits to find out how their families were on the outside, and only said good things. Togami… well, he mostly kept to himself, but was rarely actively malicious. He liked to use the computers late at night, when most of the others were asleep. Kyoko once wandered in, pretending not to have expected him there, making sure he wasn’t doing anything suspicious. He wasn’t - rather, she caught him playing  _ The Sims _ , controlling one that looked just like him. He exited to the desktop and swore at her. Neither of them ever spoke of that moment.

There were a lot of bad times too. After a few nights, Kyoko moved her things into Aoi’s room, abandoning her own quarters. She couldn’t stand to be alone in that place, where her chest tightened and she forgot how to breathe. It felt like a tomb, that her fight for survival had all been for naught and she would wither away, discarded and forgotten. Aoi could bring her back to reality when she woke up screaming from the nightmares, or when she forgot where she was and was so sure that Monokuma was about to announce a murder that she could hear his despicable voice ring in her head, and she did the same for Aoi. Aoi bought decorations and knick-knacks from the commissary as well as weights and workout equipment, determined to make their space as bright as possible to try to block as much darkness as she could.

She was, really and truly, Kyoko’s best friend.

There were signs the others were struggling in their own ways. Fukawa couldn’t keep her mean mouth under wraps and started fights, often culminating in her shrieking they were all going to die. Hiro would huddle in a corner, chanting sutras and prophesying doom and destruction. One morning, Togami threw a mug across the cafeteria seemingly out of nowhere, shattering it on the opposite wall before screaming wordlessly and stalking out of the room. On one particularly memorable occasion, Kyoko had to tackle Genocide Jack to stop her from stalking and killing a tall man with a silver bowl cut in the library.

Makoto stood in the middle of it all, talking and listening and offering to help his friends shoulder their burdens. He never said a word of complaint himself, but once in a while, when he and Kyoko were alone, he wordlessly buried his face in her neck and his whole body shook. To Kyoko, those moments were confirmation that she’d made the right decision in putting on a strong front for him. He looked to her as his rock, and she protected him. She wished she could reciprocate, to fall apart and have him build her back up as he did for the others, but he could find solace in her because she hid the waves of anger and fear from him. 

Whatever the future held, whatever the Future Foundation had in store for them, she would protect him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Alexilulu for editing and to everyone who gave me their spirit energy by leaving comments
> 
> Still totally thirsty for those comments


	3. Chapter 3

The sense of stasis broke when The Future Foundation, apparently not satisfied with how their memories weren’t returning, announced they would all be subject to a battery of tests: MRIs, hypnosis, interviews. One evening, they came into the dining hall to find a variety of top-shelf liquor set out for them. Most of them got good and smashed, but it didn’t elicit a single recovered memory.

Makoto willingly submitted to everything they threw at them like, Kyoko thought, a lamb to slaughter. She pleaded with him not to trust them, not to willingly surrender control of himself like that because that was how they ended up in this situation to begin with, but each time he reassured her with a smile that things would be okay. Even so, the slight quaver in his voice, the ever-so-slightly furrowed brow, the too-firm set to his mouth told her that he too was nervous. Every time, she paced the room until he returned, checking over him and quizzing him to make sure he was still himself. And he always came back the same person that he was before.

One day, during an interview with Makoto, Tengan called her into his office.

Kyoko sat down in a chair next to Makoto’s, glowering at the older man. 

Tengan, seeing her expression, shook his head and smiled wistfully. “So even now, you still don’t trust me?”

“No.”

“That’s fair, I suppose. You are Fuhito Kirigiri’s granddaughter, after all. I thought we’d given you enough cause to trust us, but…” He trailed off, but Kyoko could fill in the rest:  _ you’re just naturally suspicious. _

“Anyway, Makoto mentioned something quite interesting just a few minutes ago. Don’t look at him like that, it wasn’t anything secret. In fact, it’s something we already knew, but neglected to take into account. Junko tampered with your memory of being the Ultimate Detective, correct?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“How did you remember that?”

Kyoko paused. How  _ had _ she remembered? She wasn’t sure - just that she had been focusing, even obsessing over the talent she couldn’t remember. Then, one day, when she was otherwise occupied, it had blossomed in her mind.

“I… Nothing in particular.”

Kyoko could feel his eyes on her as he considered her words, weighing them for any deception or misdirection. His gaze bored into her and, had she not been trained on interrogation tactics, she may have been nervous regardless of whether she was telling the truth. Instead, she just returned his look, refusing to let him see the ever-present fear in her heart.

But then he smiled, returning to his “friendly old man” persona. “Thank you, Kirigiri-san. That’s actually very helpful. That’s all we need from you right now.”

Kyoko nodded curtly and got up to leave. Makoto started to follow her, but Tengan called out, “You can stay here, Makoto.”

Kyoko sat right back down in her chair.

Tengan started to laugh. “Goodness, girl! It’s like you’re his bodyguard! Makoto has nothing to fear from me. If it helps you feel better, this will probably be the last of such meetings.”

She didn’t speak, nor did she move. If it was something that concerned her, she would stay and hear it. She was tired of the mind games.

Makoto placed a hand on her arm. “Kyoko, it’s okay. He was just asking me about…”

“It’s fine, Makoto. If she wishes to stay, she can stay. In fact, why don’t you gather all your classmates? What I wanted to talk about concerns everyone.”

Makoto glanced askance at Kyoko, unsure of what she wanted him to do. He could sense the tension in the room coming from both sides. She knew his natural peacemaking tendencies would make him want to stay in there and help them settle their differences. She also knew that, as long as he was there, that would be impossible.

“Go ahead, Makoto,” she whispered, voice husky. At the very least, with him gone, she could defend herself without having to worry about defending him as well.

Tengan watched him go, smiling indulgently. “He’s a sweet boy,” he said, as soon as the door closed behind Makoto.

“He is.”

The silence stretched between them. “You can go ahead and search the room as thoroughly as you’d like, Kirigiri-san. I assure you, you’ll find no traps.”

She reddened, upset at him reading her like this. She stood slowly and walked to the closest shelf, running her fingers over the books and various supplies on display, trying to split her focus between what was in front of her and staying aware of what was happening behind her.

“He’s as trusting as you are suspicious.” Tengan’s voice was neutral, but his implied judgment pricked at Kyoko like a hundred needles.

“Of course he is. He’s an ordinary person. It’s only natural for a detective to be skeptical.”

“Ordinary, is he now? Only a few weeks ago you declared him the Ultimate Hope, the only force capable of defeating the Ultimate Despair.”

“Now that we’re free…”

Tengan interrupted her, a taunting edge creeping into his voice, “Now that you’re free, you want him to go back to being a normal boy? You gave him this title, and now you’re going to take it away? The world still needs hope desperately, more than anything else in the world, and you’d take that away to protect your boyfriend. He’s far more fit for his role than you are right now…”

She whirled, hair flying out from behind her. “I’m the Ultimate Detective!”

“Not now you aren’t. Detectives read the clues they have to find the truth, not try to search for confirmation of what they want to be true. If you were the Ultimate Detective, you would have realized now that this place is a safe haven. Instead, you’re a frightened girl letting her mind play tricks on her. You don’t have anything to be scared of, Kyoko. Nobody is trying to play mind games with you except yourself. Until you realize that, you’re of no use to anyone.”

With each word Tengan spoke, he stepped closer to her. With each step he took, the rage inside her burned hotter and hotter until she thought she would physically combust. She thought of the knife she kept on her, and the ways she could use it to get him to stop talking, stop saying these awful, cruel, undeniably true things.

A knock on the door. Before Kyoko could right herself, put her veneer of calm back on, Tengan invited them in.

And there they all were: Makoto, Aoi, Togami, Fukawa, and Hiro, staring at her in confusion. Red-faced, she sat back down as Tengan turned to face them all.

“For the past two weeks, we’ve been trying to figure out ways to encourage your memories to return. None of our attempts have been successful.” He placed a hand on the back of Kyoko’s chair. “However, Kyoko’s experience with her own memory loss and recovery seems to indicate that they will simply return when you are ready.

“I believe that part of the reason things have been moving so slowly is that, in our attempts at giving you time to recover, we’ve kept you all in a kind of mental stasis. To remedy that, we’ll be searching for any available mental health professionals we can find.

“We don’t think you’re quite ready to rejoin the outside world, but we’re going to do whatever we can to rehabilitate you to that point. Within a day or two, we will open up more of our institute to you, which will hopefully give you more opportunities to interact with others. We’ve instructed our staff that they can discuss current events with you, should you show interest.

“Thank you all for working with us as we figure things out ourselves. You can go now.”

The six of them stumbled out of the room, finding their way to the lounge, the nearest common space where they could unpack what they just heard.

“So… we’re just going to keep sitting around and waiting for our memories to come back?” Hiro said, bending over in his chair. After a few moments, he straightened, a refreshed grin on his face. “I’m sure when they open up more spaces to them I’ll find a place with good vibes. Then, I can ask the spirits to tell us about some of the things we’ve forgotten! For a fee, of course, but I’ll give you all a discount.”

Everyone turned away from him in disgust.

“But still… they’re starting to think about ways they can actually help us recover. That’s a good thing, right?” Aoi smiled, but had trouble keeping the corners of her mouth up. “And they’ll have counselors, which will be…”

“No!” Fukawa shrieked. “I don’t want people poking around in my head and telling me how dirty and disgusting I am! What if they find out about… about…” She sneezed.

“What’s this I hear about a counselor?” Jack giggled. “I hope it’s a cute guy, because I’m definitely going to have to kill him if he finds me!” The giggles swelled to uproarious laughter.

“Shut up,” Togami snapped, and Jack sneezed and fell quiet as Fukawa once more. “Besides, they don’t care about our well-being at all. They’re just tired of us using their dormitory as an asylum and want us out of here as soon as possible. That’s fine with me. I’m sick of being treated like an inpatient.”

Makoto furrowed his brow in thought. “I don’t think that’s it. They probably…”

“No, Makoto,” Kyoko said, her mind racing. “They do have a vested interest in getting us out there. After all, we didn’t succumb to despair even in the face of Junko. We’re probably important symbols in their movement and people will be wondering what happened to us. They also have a high concentration of Hope’s Peak alumni among their staff. I think they want to get us functioning and capable of assisting their fight against despair.”

Togami strode across the room and sat down next to Kyoko. Smirking at her sidelong, he crossed his legs as if to show off their length, and placed a hand on her knee.

She turned and stared at him, shocked by his brazenness. “Can I help you?” she asked, resisting the temptation to bend his fingers back until they broke.

“We should partner up.” He rubbed her knee with his thumb, sending shivers of revulsion up her spine. “I need to start rebuilding the Togami empire as soon as possible, and one thing I can start doing even while we’re here is start producing heirs. My options are an idiot,” he nodded toward Aoi, “a filthy idiot,” he nodded toward Fukawa, “and you.” He scanned her up and down. “While you’re not my first choice,” his eyes rested on her small breasts, “at least you’d be able to create intelligent progeny. Besides, I’ve noticed what’s going on with you and Makoto. Or should I say, what isn’t going on...”

Everyone in the room shouted in protest, except for Hiro, who quietly backed away until he was out the door, and Kyoko, who was so beside herself she couldn’t find any words. Instead, she balled one hand into a fist and swung, slamming it into his jaw so hard that even through the gloves and her deadened nerves, she felt the impact of their bones connecting.

Everyone stopped shouting abruptly as Togami’s head snapped backward, the back of his skull rebounding against the wall. She leapt up off the couch, hands still clenched, ready to punch him again. He stood, slowly, holding his hand to where Kyoko had struck him, teeth grinding audibly in rage.

Aoi ran up to her. “Let’s go, Kyoko,” she whispered, tugging at Kyoko’s arm. Kyoko kept her feet rooted to the ground, glowering at Togami. It felt so good to have an outlet for the anger that roiled within her, someone who thoroughly deserved a beating she would be all too glad to deliver.

He advanced toward her with slow, deliberate steps, never taking his eyes off her, ignoring Makoto’s shouts for him to wait, to calm down for just a minute. She saw the burning in his eyes, one that matched her own, and remembered that he was over six feet tall and athletic while she was 5’6” and hated physical exertion.

“Kyoko, seriously. Let’s get out of here.” Aoi squeezed Kyoko’s arm and she relented, fleeing the lounge for the safety of their room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to come back with kind of a low-key update after so long! It's mostly narrative connective tissue at the moment, but the next chapter should bring things to a climax. (Heh)
> 
> As always, comments are equivalent to godliness.


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